Final Hour
by Jerrath92
Summary: In the final installment of my very first Merle series, tragedy comes full circle for Merle Dixon, striking home this time, and he is torn between the decision that would ensure his survival or the one that will finally put his conscience to rest. As always, M for gore, violence, adult content, language. Sequel to "What to Live For" and "Every Day".
1. Chapter 1: Wide Open Door

**And you thought it was over…**

**This will be the last of the Merle Dixon Walking Dead stories and I have decided to title the trilogy "The Sun Also Rises" in no reference to the book by Ernest Hemmingway. For those who have faithfully followed Merle, I thank you, and if he were a real person, he would too. Again, if you have not read the first two parts titled "What to Live For" and "Make Every Day Count", this may not make sense to you—scratch that, it WILL NOT make sense to you. I highly recommend reading in chronological order unless you think you can keep up because I'm not going to go to the trouble to restate everything to newcomers when it would much more beneficial to you and me if you read the other two parts first. In this last installment, I'm going to take the liberty to do some drastic things. And if you check the genre category, you'll see that this IS listed as a Drama as well as a TRAGEDY…so fair warning. I will not hold back. This is it, so hold on, wait patiently (for I will admit that I have used up about 90% of the ideas I originally had in the last two installments and really am going to upload SLOWLY this time), and prepare for the end.**

"Control your children, Daryl, b'fore I control 'em for you!" shouted Merle Dixon, plucking his younger brother's middle child from the stairs within the fortress Walter Four. His niece Alana was now two years old as were her elder and younger triplet siblings, Jared and Emerson. Of the three, Alana alone looked like her father with blue eyes, mousy brown hair and a slightly mischievous face which meant that she looked slightly like her uncle as well. Her brothers had inherited their mother Myah's genes with fiery red hair and brown eyes.

"You git down from there 'n stay down, lil' missy," said Merle, holding onto Alana's training underwear with his one and only hand to keep her from going up the stairs to the ramparts above. "Daryl, damn it, I ain't no babysitter, come and git this kid!" As Alana continued to climb, Merle gave a sharp tug on her underwear and said firmly, "Hey, Merle says stop, girl!"

Alana looked over her shoulder at him with a pouty face that reminded Merle of Daryl's own so many years ago. For a moment he went back to when he was eleven years old and keeping Daryl from climbing over the edge of his playpen. Hadn't Daryl given him the exact same, annoying, manipulating face? Hadn't Merle ignored it and pushed Daryl back into the playpen? Well, now at about three months out from his fiftieth birthday in April, Merle was already an uncle of three, father of one and his own son Dale was coming up on his own birthday in May. The boy called him "Pop", but Merle had requested that Daryl's kids just call him "Merle". He was never one much for family, but now that he had a sister-in-law (if that's what you could call it in the apocalypse where law didn't exist) two nephews, and a niece and he wasn't fully sure what he was supposed to do with them.

"Daryl, 'f I gotta tell ya _one—more—time_ to git that squirrely ass over here…"

"Alright, I'm comin', I'm comin', just put a sock in it, will you?" said Daryl irritably as he reached up to remove Alana from the stairs and rested her against his hip. Unlike his daughter, his face was not completely whole, for a marauder had taken out his eye shortly after the group moved into Walter Four and now he wore an eye patch to cover the hole. "I done told you not to go up there, didn't I?" he asked her sternly. "What did Dad say, huh? You tell me what Dad said to you, young lady."

Alana shook her head, which either meant that she refused to answer or else she was repeating Daryl's warning to her in a completely inaudible reenactment.

"Sooner they start listenin' t'you the better," said Merle darkly. "Hell, even Dale knows the danger've goin' up the stairs."

"That's only 'cuz he fell down already and hit his head," Daryl pointed out.

"He's got a hard skull," said Merle proudly.

"Naw, _thick_ skull's prob'ly the more appropriate term, and it ain't a complement either since he gets it from his old man."

"His old man's gonna give your backside a bruise the size've his boot if y'don't shut up."

"I've got a kid in my hands, dumbass!"

"That don't mean shit."

"Merle!" Daryl's red-headed wife Myah came striding up to them with a dirty look on her face that told Merle he was about to be scolded. "How many times have I asked you to not curse in front of my children?"

"Lost count," said Merle dismissively. "Anyway, Daryl curses juss as much if not more than I do but I don't see you scoldin' _him_."

"Actually I do, and I am going to tell you one last time to keep a lid on it when the triplets are present or-,"

"Or what?" asked Merle with eyebrows raised. "Or _what_? I swear in front of Dale all the time. If we're lucky, this is the worst sort've thing they'll be exposed to. Outside these walls iss a different story, but inside cursin' is the least of anyone's problems."

"But they're _children_," Myah protested, taking Alana out of Daryl's arms and lightly slapping her behind to get her moving across the courtyard. "Go to Jared and Emerson, honey."

"The apocalypse don't care 'bout that. Iss a dangerous thing, havin' kids in today's world, 'specially since the world's gone t'hell. I'd be damn proud to have Dale have a foul mouth on 'im rather than get it bitten off by walkers. Am I right, or am I right?"  
>Myah chewed her lip without words and Merle appealed to Daryl who shrugged.<p>

"You're right," said Merle's wife Andrea, leading their toddler son Dale by the hand across the courtyard. "And Myah, Merle actually is sensitive, even if his big mouth hides the fact sometimes."

"Naw, Daryl's the more sensitive one," said Merle instantly. The thought of people thinking that he, Merle Dixon, was a big softie was intolerable.

"That's also true," agreed Andrea. "Daryl's the one who named his kids after three people we've lost."

Merle sobered up instantly. Daryl's eldest triplet Jared Ferris Dixon was named after a Scotsman who was a marauder-turned-companion and who saved Merle's life as well as the entire Atlanta group's three years previously. Alana was named for Andrea's sister who was bitten by a walker and the youngest, Emerson was named after the brains of the group who had been trampled to death the same day as Ferris was bitten and shot, Glenn. If that wasn't sensitive, Merle didn't know what was, but he was reminded uncomfortably of the fact that he had named his own son—with the tiniest hint of persuasion from Andrea—after the man who protected Andrea and her sister up until his death four years ago in August, Dale Horvath.

And then of course, there was the fact that Merle's son had three D's for initials. Dale Daryl Dixon.

If Daryl ever found this out, Merle just might have to kill him.

"Merle, your son is trying to get your attention," said Andrea presently, nodding her head at Dale who was frantically tugging on Merle's pant leg and pointing.

"What? What is it, buddy?" asked Merle, following his son's gaze…and then his heart stopped.

Someone, some stupid son of a bitch had left the vault door open and there was a walker lumbering through it, eyes fixed on the triplets who were all sitting beside one of the fire pits, completely oblivious. There were another two walkers about twenty feet behind the first.

"Argh, _shit_!"

Merle had no weapon in hand other than the knife which technically wasn't even _in_ his hand, but rather attached to the stump where his hand used to be by an entire roll of gray duct tape that he had gone through hell to get. He roared for the guards on the ramparts and in the watch towers to hear, "Walker in the courtyard! Walker!" before he tore across the concrete to intercept the walking corpse. He drew back his right arm as he skidded into the walker and punched a hole clean through its eye socket. Shoving the damn thing out of the way, he continued running straight at the vault door and slammed it shut.

Daryl and Myah had simultaneously reached their children as the ramparts came alive with activity. Merle stomped out into the middle of the courtyard and rotated in a complete circle so that he had the attention of every single guard on watch.

"Who's the half-witted, useless, careless bastard who left the damn vault door open, huh? That walker was goin' for the kids and wouldda gotten 'em if I hadn't stepped in, so I wanna know, _who's the son've a bitch that done it_?"

A small, adolescent voice came from Merle's left. Rick Grimes's son Carl, now fifteen and several inches taller had his rifle held loosely in his hand. His father came to stand beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's my fault, Merle," said Carl.

"What d'you mean, son?" asked Rick.

Shamefaced, Carl continued, "I—I came in through the vault after checking the water collectors and I forgot to shut it. It was my turn for lookout too, but I had to use the bathroom. I'm sorry, Daryl. I wasn't thinking."

"No, you weren't," said Daryl, jaw locked as he looked on at Carl with an expression that suggested anger, but also hesitation since Daryl didn't want to embarrass or berate the boy in front of Rick. "You're just lucky my nephew saw that walker b'fore he got any closer to my kids, Carl. You don't deserve to hold that weapon in your hands if you can't remember to shut a damn door."

"That ain't the half of it," said Merle, glaring at the boy. "Y' left the door open _and_ y'left your post to take a piss. D'you have any idea how much danger y'put all've us in, boy? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Now, Merle, that's enough," said Rick firmly. "He learned his lesson and you can be sure that he'll never do it again."

"I ain't finished. 'F the door'd juss been left open and no walker came in, I'dda shrugged it off, but your son put all've us in danger by not shuttin' the door and leavin' his post to relieve himself. Let's juss think for a sec 'bout the possibility that a walker couldda killed Daryl's kids. Then think 'bout the fact that it could very well've been _my_ son. I'dda gone back to the first Merle Dixon y'ever knew and feared 'f it was my boy that got killed 'cuz yours couldn't hold his water. He ain't ready to be handlin' no weapon. Git it outta his hands and put him back on cleanup duty."

"I said that's _enough_ Merle," said Rick again, a little stronger with his hand moving ever so slowly towards his belt where he kept his Colt Python.

"Reach for it, Grimes," Merle challenged. "Threaten a one-handed man with a gun when all he's got is a knife. Then handcuff my left hand and leave me to rot like y'done before. Do it and I promise you there'll be blood."

"Stop," said Andrea, putting her hand on Merle's chest. "It was an accident, Merle. Carl's a kid and an adolescent one at that. He knows his responsibility and knows how to handle a gun."

"Daryl was his age once and he weren't so careless," said Merle, trying to get around Andrea. "Apocalypse or none, carelessness gits people killed; s'how people y'care 'bout die, or ain't you seen 'nough've that to know, boy? Y'remember how Dale and Shane died, huh?"

"Don't you threaten my son like that, Dixon, or I'll shut your mouth for you!" Rick shouted, going for his Colt.

"Hey, don't you pull that revolver on my brother!" yelled Daryl.

A gunshot rang out in the air and everyone looked up to see Myah's twin brother Thane limping down the ramparts with a pistol in hand. He had a scary look on his face and his vivid redish-orange mustache could not mask it. "Now, I thought we agreed when I took you all in three years ago that _no one_ would draw a weapon on another while inside these walls? The last thing we need is people turning on each other when we're all we have left. Merle, I'm as upset as you that Carl was so careless and I don't plan on letting him resume lookout for a while, but you can't talk to him like that; it's traumatizing. He's not an adult and so you can't treat him like one."

"He isn't Daryl, is what Thane's trying to say," said Andrea quietly. "You can't talk to him like he's your younger brother."

"And Rick, you have no right pulling out a weapon, regardless of what he says to your son. If you want to resolve this, you talk about it rationally, do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear," said Rick, still glowering at Merle.

Merle scooped up Dale in his arm and shared a look with Daryl. His little brother confirmed it; this was the first time that they had ever openly taken each other's side.

The apocalypse really _did _change people.


	2. Chapter 2: Stress Reliever

Merle had trouble sleeping that night. Images of liver-spotted dead figures bearing down on his nephews and niece passed through his head every time he closed his eyelids and replayed like the most annoying film pasted over his eyes so that he was forced to watch it. Andrea awoke once to ask him what was wrong, but he told her it was nothing and so he was forced to lie in bed staring up at the ceiling while the darkness pressed in on him from sides. He had finally drifted off to sleep when his dream became a nightmare where Ferris Orwell in walker form seized his son and bit down on Dale's small arm, tearing out a long line of stringy flesh.

That was the last straw. Merle sat up bolt right, flinging the covers off of him and pulling on his boots. He stole across the room, careful to not make any noise lest he should wake Carol and Sophia who shared the abode with Merle, Andrea, and Dale. In the corridor he saw that the night watchman had put a torch in the bracket. Guided by the light, Merle opened the weapon closet specifically built for the Atlanta group's use and found his rifle. He pushed the strap up onto his shoulder and positioned a harness to store his bat in on his back. No one was wandering the corridors this early in the morning—he assumed it was the morning because he knew that the lookouts were about to switch shifts since he had seen Kale Verinberg making his way to the south tower. He had snuck out once before in lockdown hours, but he had had Ferris and Thane with him that time. The result was that Thane had taken a bullet right above his lung which was why he now limped and then Ferris had ended up dead—twice.

He wouldn't take anyone with him this time. As always, there was a guard standing right above the vault, looking outward onto the stretch of grass outside. He would hear the vault opening, but Merle counted on his intimidating features to save him here. Just as he suspected, the guard came running down the stairs when Merle opened the door and it made a loud creak.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? You know the rules; this door doesn't open if the sun isn't up."

On closer inspection, Merle could see that the guard was Lincoln, a man with hard features and shoulder length sleek black hair. Merle had never seen the man smile and knew that he didn't play well with others, but that didn't mean he was intimidated.

"Rules are meant to be broken. I ain't hurtin' no one by openin' it, but if y'argue with me then this thing's gonna stay open and another walker's gonna git in, so I'll be on my way. Don't like it, take it up with Thane."

"I'll report you," said Lincoln threateningly.

"Y'do that," said Merle, stalking out the door bad-temperedly.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Dixon. And mind that you keep your ass out of trouble because this door isn't opening until the sun comes up."

With that Lincoln let the door swing shut and Merle crept on into the night. His senses were on high alert due to the adrenaline brought on by his nightmares. He felt the need to do something, to make up for Carl's mistake and the only way he could do that was by beating the hell out of a walker or two. Andrea might call it stupidity and Rick would definitely call it foolishness, but Merle called it not necessarily giving a shit. He may have a wife and a kid, he may be a changed man from the one that was chained to the rooftop in Atlanta, but he was still Merle Dixon and that meant that when he needed to let off steam, he was going to do it, regardless of any stupid rules set forth by two brothers who had not yet seen the _real_ world. Their intentions were for the best, but sometimes their decisions were what Merle considered to be ones that would get everyone in Walter Four killed in the future.

And as for the rule to not let anyone out of the fortress at night, screw that.

He found a walker reaching upward towards an owl that perched on a branch high above it. Merle pulled the bat from its strap and swung a home-run at the walker, beating it quite a few times before he was satisfied. With his blood pumping and his heart pounding, he walked faster, willing a walker to appear, even catch him slightly off guard. He would welcome the adventure after nearly three years of dull, uneventful living inside Walter Four. He wanted _action_, he wanted danger and that thrill of terror as his life was put on the line. Raising a child had its ups and downs and that fact that he had to stay home and play the good father role was one he was definitely not cut out for, not that he hadn't tried, for Andrea and Dale's sake.

Hadn't he promised himself that he would be a better parent that his old man? Already he had proven himself to be a good father because his son happened to love him, something Merle never felt towards his own father or mother for that matter. He would never speak the word love aloud, but that was probably the emotion he felt for his brother and family.

Probably.

He heard the snarls from up ahead and prepared himself for another attack but when the moon shined down on a lone figure wandering aimlessly through the trees, he saw that it was a boy, no older than seven. The kid had not seen Merle, which was a good thing because Merle hesitated. When it came to killing walkers, Merle showed no mercy and pretended that he had no heart, but for some reason he had never come across a child walker. It was one thing to put down a teenage or adult walker, but a kid, a _kid_ was an entirely different matter. The look on a child's face was something that even being a walker couldn't take away and he knew that if he killed this child walker, he would see the face in his nightmares until his dying day.

He didn't need any more nightmares.

Backing away slowly, he kept his eyes on the walker just in case he stepped on a twig and broke his cover. In a few moments the walker continued on and Merle breathed out of his nose softly. That was the first time he had ever—_ever_ stopped and thought before he killed something, or in this case, was it some_one_? No, it wasn't a person; he had convinced himself that walkers were not people when he had had to put Ferris down when the Scotsman-turned-walker had tried to take a bite out of his ankle. Walkers were just the damned, soulless, heartless, and brainless.

Deciding that he'd find himself one more walker before returning to Walter Four, he headed in the direction opposite from the boy walker until he saw a trio of the walkers all coming in his direction, though not because they had seen him. He considered using his rifle, but shooting a gun nowadays was also a way of holding up a sign that said "Fresh Meat" and shooting in the dead of night when he couldn't see more than twenty feet in front of him was as stupid as anyone could get. The bat was still in his hand and he made a few practice swings through mid air as he readied himself for the attack. As he started forward, his keen ears picked up the sound of a shotgun cocking off to his left. Only his big mouth and stupidity saved him.

"Hey, don't shoot!"

He saw someone's outline from the direction of the cocking gun and they lowered their weapon once he had called out. The problem was that the walkers had heard him too. Undaunted, Merle made his first swing into a walker whose tongue was hanging over ripped open lips. In the dark he did not see the protruding root and went flying forward onto his face as the other two walkers bore down on him. He tried to regain his feet but with no light to guide his way he became hopelessly entangled in a bramble of weeds and struggled to pull himself free. One walker dropped to its knees and opened its unmerciful jaws to clamp down on Merle's shoulder when he heard a gunshot and the walker fell, its wide open mouth just inches from Merle's jugular. The second walker ignored Merle and made towards the sound of the shot when Merle heard a fourth walker approaching to his side. He didn't hesitate; his bat was at hand and he could feel bone cave in under the force with which he hit the skull. He heard a second gunshot and moments later a light hit him full in the face as he stood up, finally disentangled and he put up his arm to block it out.

"Hey, dumbass, kill the light unless you wanna blind me," he snapped, looking down at the walker he had taken out." A lump formed in his throat. It was the boy, the one he thought he had left behind. Apparently his voice had brought it around, or else it had been stalking him. He shuddered at the thought.

"Are you stupid or something?" asked a hoarse voice as the faceless shooter came to Merle. "Why'd you call out to me?"

"'Cuz you was gonna shoot me y'idiot! 'F you had 'nough sense to see that I wasn't a walker, I wouldn'ta hadta shout, but you was thinking with your ass. Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Rhys Petri, who are you?"

"The hell sorta name is that?" asked Merle.

"What's it matter? It's my name," said Rhys defensively. "Are you alone?" Rhys dimmed the light and shined it on his own face so that Merle could see him properly. He had ginger hair and was at least four inches shorter than Merle, but there was a definite look of anger hidden behind his green eyes. "And it's not my fault for mistaking you for a walker; you can't be too careful these days."

"Yeah, 'cuz walkers carry bats and rifles," said Merle sardonically. "Juss what the hell're you doin' out here at this time've night?"

"I could ask you the same thing," said Rhys, "but I won't because it's not my business. I don't suppose you have any water to spare, do you? I've been going for about twenty-six hours without it, though I don't think I can go much longer. I'm surprised at how accurate my shooting was since I'm dehydrated."

Merle could see no immediate danger in inviting Rhys along to accompany him back to Walter Four, though he didn't think Thane and Braxton would appreciate the fact that he was bringing in someone they knew nothing about. But if the man tried to jump him, he was dehydrated, right? At least, that's what Rhys claimed.

"Come with me," said Merle, "but walk in front've me. I'm warnin' you, though; if y'try'n do me in I'll set you up as a welcomin' feast for the walkers, y'unnerstand?"

Rhys nodded, realized Merle could not see him and added, "Yeah."

Wondering how the hell he had never gotten into an argument with Lincoln before, especially when the two were always passing each other in the courtyard, Merle wished he had established more of a mutual understanding as he stood shouting up to Lincoln on the lawn in front of Walter Four.

"It'll take you _ten_ _seconds_ to open the damn door, y'moron! Juss git down here and open it 'fore I pop off a round in your forehead!"

"I told you the door would stay shut until the sun came up, didn't I?" yelled Lincoln back down to him. "You'll just have to wait!"

"I can juss scream louder and someone else will open it," Merle pointed out. "Stop bein' such an asshole'n do as I say!"

"I take orders from no one, Dixon," said Lincoln venomously.

"Then why the hell are y'followin' the rules that say that the door don't open at night?" asked Merle in bewilderment.

"Because I just don't like you."

"You-,"

"Hey, I'd do as he says and just wait it out," said Rhys. "Shouting right now is probably not the best thing to be doing."

"You stay outta this," Merle snarled.

"Fine, but I should warn you that there's a walker coming from behind us and I used my last round to take out the one that was closing in on you."

Merle put his rifle in between his legs and cocked it with his left hand, resting it across his right stump to aim in the direction Rhys was pointing but there seemed something odd about the walker's behavior. It was in plain view of Walter Four, but it was not coming at the building. Instead it was limping towards something off to the right and when Merle saw a figure burst out of the underbrush in full flight, he understood.

"Lincoln, I'mma ask you one more time t'git that damn door open 'cuz there's a herd've walkers comin' right at us."

"Well, then, I guess you're screwed."

Merle spun around, aiming straight for the spot on Lincoln's forehead that he had threatened the latter with. "So…'bout that door. Go open it."

Lincoln shot him the middle finger and then disappeared. Merle and Rhys came around to the vault door and waited none too patiently for it to open. When it finally did Merle gave it a kick for good measure to make sure that if Lincoln was behind it, he would be smashed between it and the wall for his impudence. Rhys hurried in after Merle and the human who was being chased by the walkers sprinted in after them. Together Merle and Rhys slammed the door shut, bolted it, and heard the cries of the dead coming nearer and nearer. Rushing up the stairs, Merle leaned out over the ramparts to see dozens of walkers emerging from the woods.

The last time he had seen so many was at the battle that had taken place between the occupants of Walter Four, the attacking marauders, and the walkers three years ago. This time there were _a lot_ more walkers and even that was an understatement.

"Holy shit," breathed Rhys. "Where'd they all come from?"

Merle shrugged. "I dunno, but I'm bettin' that the idiot they was chasin' knows."


	3. Chapter 3: The Horde

By the time the first rays of sunlight hit the east side of Walter Four Merle, Thane, and Braxton found out everything they possibly could about Rhys and the other newcomer, Hal Burns. Braxton was outraged that Merle had broken curfew, but Thane, who was much more forgiving than his brother, had been more interested to find out about the two new members. According to Hal, the walkers had caught on to him earlier that night and grown in size until their numbers were overwhelming. To test out this theory, Merle took the stairs two at a time to look over the battlements and he swore so loudly and strongly that he expected Myah to swoop down on him at any moment and give him a scolding because even Thane who was a very strong curser reprimanded him.

He saw hundreds—_hundreds_ of walkers lumbering around on the grass in front of the building. Where they had come from, he didn't know and neither did he think it was important. The thoughts that flashed through his mind were much more serious. Where were they going to get their water supply now? How could they send out scouts to gather any supplies at all? They were about as far up Shit Creek as it was possible to get.

"Hot damn," said Daryl at Merle's side as his brother looked down on the scene. "What happened?"

"Not really sure, bro, we's juss tryin' to assess the situation with the help of Mr. Burns over there. Them walkers was chasin' him, and from what he says, they was on to 'im for quite a while. Ain't no one seen this many walkers in one place outside the city, but here they are and we got a big problem. We need water and we can't chance it with that many've 'em roamin' round. I've heard suggestions all 'round and they're all bullshit plans, but from what I can see, the only way we can git 'em off the property is to send out a decoy. One man on horseback could plow into them, clear a path, and lead 'em away, but if horseback ain't an option, we could always run for Dale's old RV and drive it off."

Daryl gave him a look that said plainly, "that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard".

"You got a better idea, feel free to share," said Merle, trying to count the number of walkers, but it hurt his head and so he turned away from the field and leaned against the parapets. Down in the courtyard Lincoln and Kale were discussing something with Braxton while Rick spoke with Thane, Rhys, and Hal. Andrea had Dale resting against her hip and made her way towards the stairs, but Merle called her off. "Don't bring him up here. Leave 'im with someone else if you're gonna come up."

Andrea handed Dale off to Carol and climbed the steps. Merle held out his arm to stop her when she was two steps from the top. "I'mma warn you, baby, it ain't pretty. Maybe you shouldn't come up either."

"Maybe you should get out of my way."

"Merle, can I see you down here for a moment?" asked Braxton.

_Great, here it comes._

Grumbling and reminding himself to punch Lincoln in the nose the first chance he got, Merle descended, grabbing Andrea's arm and taking her with him. He wanted to be next to her when she looked out onto the field. Joining with Thane's party, Braxton, Lincoln, and Kale all looked at Merle and their expressions weren't exactly welcoming either.

"Now, y'ain't gonna tell me all this is _my_ fault?" Merle laughed.

"No, but we know what you're planning on doing," said Rick knowingly. "It's suicide."

"And iss prob'ly the only chance we got 'less someone's got somethin' else in mind. I never said I's gonna be the one to do it, but only one other man in this place's got the guts to do it b'sides me and I ain't lettin' him go 'cuz he's got three kids."

"Hold on," said Andrea, butting in. "I don't like the sound of this. I haven't seen what's on the other side of those walls, but I'm guessing that whatever it is has everyone scared for survival, which means that you, Merle, are the first one to volunteer yourself up to be human slaughter. Do I really have to remind you that you also have a child? Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't."

"'F y'saw what I saw, you might have a different say, baby," said Merle.

"Well, thanks to you, I haven't, so why don't you just tell me?"

"Three guesses what it is," said Daryl sarcastically.

"How many?" asked Andrea with her eyes closed.

"We don't know," said Thane. "Hal here says that they just swamped him from nowhere and now they won't go away, not even to search for food."

"Don't we got any explosives?" asked Merle. "In all the time I been here I ain't seen no one use any sort've explosive device, but somethin' that blows to heaven come might be handy to keep 'round."

"We have a few grenades and a couple of sticks of dynamite, but that's it, not enough to get rid of even half of them," said Braxton. "We're stuck. If we tried to shoot them down we'd just waste our ammo because there's just too many of them. Our only option is to draw them away and like Rick said, it's suicide if we do."

"Well, seein' as how no one feels like dyin' today, I'll volunteer," said Merle. "Y'all know I can do it and my luck's held this far, ain't it? What's one more try at testin' it?"

"See, that's what I'm afraid of," said Andrea concernedly with a strange look on her face. "You've cheated death ten too many times, Merle. No one's luck can hold forever and what if _one more try_ is the last one? What if your luck runs out this time? There are already so many things our son will grow up being deprived of, please don't make a father one of them. He needs you and—and I need you too, regardless of how much of a hard-ass you think you are."

"And if I sit here, twiddlin' my thumbs waitin' for someone else to step up, how long'll it be b'fore our water and supplies run out, Andrea? I'm playin' my ol' man role by offerin' to clear the way to the wells. We gotta have water or none of us are gonna last more than three days."

"You ain't got two thumbs to twiddle," said Daryl under his breath and then addressed Thane and Braxton. "This is all your fault. What sorta smartass idea was this to build a castle without a running water supply inside've it?"

"We never thought we'd actually be held up in here," said Thane calmly. Unlike his brother, his temper could last a long time and he had grown very accustomed to reactions like this from the Dixons, especially his brother-in-law.

"Look, we are not discussing this," said Rick. "There _has_ to be some other way to get rid of the walkers."

"Naw, we're discussin' it alright, 'cuz we got told this mornin' to conserve the water supply which tells me that we're already runnin' low. It'll start with no showerin' and no brushin' y'teeth, and then it'll be down to four quarts a day and when the supply runs out, people will go savage to git the last bit've water they can. You'll be dealin' with chaos and y'know what happens then, right Rick? How many people did we lose when you tried to avoid pandemonium, huh?"

In truth they had lost three and some might say _only_ three, but Rick had nearly lost his mind in the process since two of those three were his wife and best friend. When people were already desperate to survive just one more day, forcing rules upon them often led straight towards anarchy rather than away from it. Since then neither Rick nor Merle nor anyone else tried to lead, but rather made decisions as a group and in Walter Four, they had impressed this upon Thane and Braxton who, for the most part, continued the tradition of group judgments.

"Please don't bring that up again, Merle, I'm under enough stress as it is," said Rick with a faraway look in his eyes.

"We need to think this through," said Andrea. "Let's keep this knowledge between as few of us as we can and discuss it later before we try anything stupid and yes, Merle, I'm talking to you."

"I still say that the walkers were drawn here," said Lincoln with a sour look on his face. "If there's one thing we all agreed upon when we took up refuge here it was to stay as quiet as possible, but since Dixon had a craving for rule breaking he got locked out and he shouted up a storm for at least ten minutes, which was a signal to every walker in the area."

"Do you live to create trouble, asshole?" asked Merle, stepping towards Lincoln, but Andrea and Daryl came in between them.

"False accusations based on almost no evidence," said Rhys. "I believe that there was already that many walkers in the area, though I don't know why, and that they followed the crowd that was going after Hal."

"But you said yourself that there were shots fired, isn't that right?" asked Lincoln, nodding at Rhys's empty weapon.

"I fired, yes, but not Merle."

"Lincoln, this is getting us nowhere," said Braxton, but Merle elbowed his way past Daryl and Andrea so that he and Lincoln were less than a foot apart from each other.

"You got it in for me for some reason, pal? 'Cuz we can settle this right here and now if y'wanna."

"The ugly mug doesn't scare me, Dixon, and neither does your pathetic excuse for a knife on that stump of yours."

Act first, think never, that was Merle's concept, and that's exactly what he did.

He punched Lincoln in the gut and slammed his foot into Lincoln's shin. Drawing up on one leg he kicked his adversary in the chest and Lincoln went down hard on his back. Merle moved in to attack again, but Daryl held him back with some help from Andrea and Rhys while Braxton, Thane, and Kale formed a wall so that Lincoln could not rebound on Merle.

"You've got yours coming, Dixon! Your life's about to come crashing down around you and there's not a damn thing you can do about it! Your brother, wife, and son will burn in the fires of hell for your sins!"

"Son've a bitch, threaten my family agin, will you?" Merle was now tugging with such ferocity to get at Lincoln that he was dragging all three of the people who held him back with him. "I'mma kill you, you bastard! You're goin' down!"

"Merle, that's enough, _enough_ I say!" cried Braxton. "Daryl, get a hold on your brother!"

"I'm tryin'!"

Andrea gave up trying to hold Merle back and came around to the front, taking his face in her hands. "Merle, look at me. Lincoln is angry, that's all. People lose their tempers easily; don't make this into a big deal because of an empty threat. Daryl, Dale, and I are all still here. We're right here and nothing is going to happen to us. Do you understand me? Nod your head so that I know you're listening."

Merle scowled, fist still bawled, but he nodded once and stopped pulling as he puffed air heavily out his nose. He locked eyes with Lincoln and sent him a very clear message: _I am going to kill you one day soon._

"I want to see how many walkers we're talking about here," said Andrea presently.

"No y'don't," said Merle, laughing dryly.

"I would much rather know what I'm up against than sit in fear of what I think I'm up against. I want to see, Merle."

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

At the top of the stairs Andrea cautiously approached the ramparts and looked down. The stench had grown by now so that even Merle, who had quite a strong stomach had to gulp down a bit of rebellious vomit as it threatened to make an escape out of his lips. Andrea looked long and hard at the terrifying sight and clapped a hand to her mouth as she sprinted down the stairs and ran for the restroom. Deciding that he had best follow her to see if he could help, Merle jogged the length of the courtyard to the bathroom. Knocking lightly he called, "Baby, I'm comin' in." He found her on her knees in front of a toilet, clutching the sides of the bowl with pale and sweaty hands as she vomited. Merle put his hand on her back and patted it.

"Iss alright; the smell's pretty bad, I know."

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Andrea sat back from the toilet and hugged her knees to her chest. "It's not that, Merle. I'm scared. I don't want you volunteering to drive the walkers off because I need you and in the months to come…well, I just—I can't do it on my own, if you aren't there, I know I can't."

"Can't what?" asked Merle, thoroughly confused. "What's wrong?"

Andrea reached for his hand and grasped it in her cold ones. Her eyes found his and she stared meaningfully at him as she moved his hand to her stomach. "I'm pregnant."


	4. Chapter 4: The Monster Inside the Walls

Merle's first instinct was to duck his own head into the toilet and puke, but he remembered that he was supposed to be the strong one in this situation, so he could only drop slowly to his knees and stare back at Andrea, searching her face for any sign of a joke, but found none.

"Baby, are—are y'_sure_?"

"Yes, I've known for about three weeks now and there's no mistaking it. Merle, I'm so sorry that you had to find out this way, but now you know why I don't want you putting yourself up for that suicidal mission; I can't bring this child into the world on my own. You have to promise me that you won't try to be the hero this time and that you'll stay safe."

"I never _try_ to be the hero," said Merle earnestly, "I juss end up bein' one and it ain't no party, either. I hate gratitude."

"No bravado, Merle, I mean it. I don't care what happens; you are not going to leave me alone to raise our children."

Merle rested his head against the side of the bathroom stall, trying to fathom all that had happened to him in the past few hours. As far as he was concerned, finding out that had had done this to Andrea _again_ was one of the worst feelings he had ever had, including the emotions he had felt when he had to cut off his hand and when Daryl supposedly abandoned him. It was hard enough surviving in the apocalypse, but surviving it while raising a kid and on top of that _two_ kids was just insane.

_Daryl's got three kids_, said a voice in the back of his head.

"Alright," he said, bucking up. "No bravado. At least, I'll try to cut back." Andrea gave him a death glare and he added, "Okay, okay, no bravado at all."

Satisfied, Andrea dabbed at her chin and Merle sat forward, putting his hand on her stomach. He felt the tiniest nudge against his palm. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I didn't mean f'it to happen the first time and I sure as hell wasn't expectin' it this time either. You almost got killed when y'gave birth to Dale-,"

"The situation was different. We're as safe as it's probably possible to be in here and I'm going to be just fine if only you can stay out of trouble. I know that's like asking for you to jump off the ramparts and fly, but I really need you to stop and think about this one, okay?"

"Watch me fly, baby."

Daryl was on watch at the south wall, leaning against the battlements as he surveyed the scene below and gnawed on the toothpick between his teeth. When Merle trudged up the steps to accompany him, Daryl kicked at the wall and swore under his breath. "I tell ya, bro, all this gives me that nasty feelin' that somethin' bad's 'bout to go down. I try and live on the positive side of life, but this—this is just ridiculous. And the _smell_—damn it's like every kinda smell that would make y'gag but ten times worse." Looking sideways he caught sight of Merle's face and asked, "What's up?"

Merle took his time in answering. He could be discrete and beat around the bush for a while or he could be out front with it. Neither way sounded appealing and he knew the longer he stood there contemplating what to say, the edgier Daryl would get until another quarrel broke out and after all the recent events, Merle was much too tired to deal with any more of anything.

"Andrea's pregnant."

Daryl spat out his toothpick. He gawked at Merle, hoping to find some emotion other than indifference but as always, Merle kept his face passive.

"Well—well, uh, that's—that's really somethin', that is. I don't really know what to add to that."

"You could add that iss a bad thing, that you're happy for us, but that we're pretty much screwed. Then agin, y'could juss keep y'trap shut and not say anythin' at all—to anyone and I mean _anyone_, 'specially them newcomers. I got 'nough t'deal with as it is."

"Did she just tell y'this now?" asked Daryl.

Merle rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "Naw, I've known 'bout this for a long time, that's why I'm juss now tellin' you, y'numb wits."

"Alright, ease up, I's just curious. But that takes you outta the runnin' for the trip to Dale's RV, huh?"

"Guess so," said Merle moodily. "But if I can't go, you ain't goin' neither."

"Yeah, 'cuz that's fair," said Daryl sarcastically.

"I ain't playin' games here, y'dumbass. 'F I can't be the one goin' out, I ain't gonna sit on my ass waitin' for you to come back. Let someone else go if that's what Thane and Braxton decide on. 'Sides, y'got three kids so y'can't go Clint Eastwood on 'em and take off."

"Clint Eastwood never had no crossbow," Daryl pointed out.

Merle frowned at Daryl. "I oughtta pop you one juss 'cuz y'annoy the hell outta me."

Just then Thane shuffled up the stairs and he looked on the verge of exploding as he clutched a brown paper bag in his fist. Holding it out for the brothers to see, Merle and Daryl looked down into it and saw numerous severed body parts such as noses, ears, fingers, tongues, and toes all jumbled together inside the bag. This wasn't what bothered Merle; it was the fact that the body parts were not gray or dead-looking, but actually one hundred percent _human_.

"What the hell's this?" asked Daryl.

"We found this when we searched Rhys's pack while he was in the mess hall," said Thane, positively fuming at the mouth. "The man's nothing but a sick, twisted bastard who keeps human trophies. I don't doubt that he would have killed you in the woods if you hadn't offered to lead him back here, Merle, and now I'll bet he's planning on doing away with whoever he can before he jumps ship."

"He can't, not with them walkers surroundin' the place," said Merle, infuriated that he hadn't trusted his gut and just shot the bastard when he had the chance. "Where is that son've a bitch? I'll kill 'im."

"No, you won't," said Thane. "Braxton and I will decide where to keep him and from there we'll vote on what his fate should be."

"There ain't no time for that," said Daryl. "The longer we keep him alive, the longer he takes up supplies we can't 'ford to spare and we're runnin' short as it is. Either we put a bullet in his mouth or turn him out've Walter Four to face the walkers. If he's got a strong 'nough will to survive, he'll outrun 'em."

"I say we find 'im now," said Merle, storming off down the stairs. "Where is he?"

"That's part of the reason I came to you two," said Thane, following behind. "Since I found the bag, I haven't seen him, and I was wondering if you did."

"Naw, we ain't seen 'im neither—hey, what's that smell? Somethin's on fire." Merle sniffed and catching a huge whiff of smoke, looked skyward. He saw that one of the inner building towers was on fire. "Aw, shit!"

"I'll bet that son've a bitch done it," cursed Daryl. "I'll bet he set the place on fire so that we'd have to use our water supply to put it out!"

"The roof will cave in, but the fire should stay contained unless someone opens the door," said Thane. "We knew there was always a risk of fire when we designed the place and the sprinkler system as well as the fire-proof protection should keep the fire in that room until we can get someone up there. I'll arrange a group to go up." He paused as if waiting for Merle and Daryl to volunteer to go, but when neither of them did, he walked off, his gimp very apparent.

"I think we should go find Rhys," said Daryl. "He's prob'ly found another weapon by now and-,"

An ear-shattering scream rent the air and they understood one word in the mix of it: _Merle_.

Merle knew it was Andrea screaming and knew that she was not only in danger, but pain as well. He and Daryl spun around and saw her struggling with Rhys in the southeast tower. She was beating at Rhys with one fist while he tried to put his hand over her mouth. Merle's vision became blurry from the time he took off running to the time that he broke through the barred trap door and leapt upon Rhys, driving his knife into the bastard's hip. The force with which he hit his opponent was so strong that both of them crashed through one wooden wall and fell, landing along the battlements. Merle had landed on his side, cushioned by Rhys underneath and he spared no time in coming to his knees to pummel his fist into his adversary's nose.

"You wrote your own death sentence when y'put your hands on my wife, y'sick motherfucker! Go to hell!"

He had packed in at least twelve punches when no less than four pairs of hands seized him and dragged him backwards. Andrea and Myah each had a pistol pointed at Rhys who wasn't moving at Merle's feet.

"Merle, you could have killed him!" shouted Braxton.

"I aimed to! He tried to rape my wife! I'll cut off 'is tool and shove it down his throat, juss watch me! Leggo me! Leggo, damn it!"

"You might have already killed him if you hit him hard enough!" Thane yelled.

"I wanna be sure now leggo've me!" Merle managed to shove Rick away from him when a sudden explosion shook the entire fortress and they saw a wall of debris shooting high into the air before landing on the walkers below, crushing many underneath. Some of them lost their balance while others grabbed onto the bulwark for support, but Myah, who had been closest to the edge, was thrown backward and before anyone could reach out a hand to grab her, she was lost from sight. It was at least a thirty foot fall and as Merle rushed to the edge, he saw that she was still moving on the ground below, though just barely. The walkers, drawn in by the sounds of the detonation, were advancing towards her as well as the hole in the side of Walter Four.

"Barricade it! Block up the hole and keep them out!" Braxton thundered.

"No, that's my wife out there!" roared Daryl, flying down the steps. Merle tore after him, swiping a pistol out of one man's hands as he went, for Daryl was running straight towards the hole the blast had caused in the south wall. The hole was big enough for one walker to clamber through at a time, and already one had made it inside. T-Dog was nearest to it and seizing a smoldering log from one of the fire pits, smacked it into the walker's face just as back up arrived to help him out. Daryl scrambled through the hole and Merle came right after him. Both of them stopped, now faced with the horde of walkers that were closing in on them and Myah who was at least twenty feet from them.

Merle knew that his brother would hate him for the rest of his life if he didn't already because _he_ was the one who had brought Rhys back to Walter Four and Rhys had set the explosive, but if Daryl tried to get to Myah now, he would never make it. Reaching for Daryl's arm, Merle grabbed hold and urged, "We gotta go, c'mon."

"No—Myah," said Daryl, starting forward.

"Daryl, iss too late; she's gone."

"No, she's not, get your fuckin' hands off've me! Let go, you bastard!"

Shouting upwards to the guards on the wall, Merle gave the command, "Cover us!" He seized Daryl around his waist and tugged hard, pulling him backward. "Daryl, you've gotta leave her, she's _gone_!"

"Merle, let go!"

The two saw the walkers drop to their knees beside Myah and a moment later she was lost from sight as they began to tear at her body. Daryl went strangely limp in Merle's arms, but only for a moment. He began to kick and claw and actually bit down on Merle's arm, but his older brother would not relinquish his hold.

"NO!" Daryl screamed.

Merle dragged Daryl back five feet and then stuffed him through the hole before climbing through himself. People began to pile up anything heavy and tall in front of the hole to keep the walkers out as Merle regained his former grip on Daryl, but by now Daryl was only reaching blindly through his tears at the hole while Merle knelt behind him, holding his brother's back to his chest.

He had never had to comfort his younger brother before because Daryl had never once shed an actual tear in Merle's presence besides when he was an infant and a toddler, but seeing Daryl so vulnerable, so lost, was enough for Merle to hold onto his brother just a little bit tighter. He found a hand on his shoulder and saw Andrea standing there, tears rolling down her cheeks. Merle was at a loss for words and his look plainly told her, _I don't know what to do_.

"Just keep hold of him, Merle," she said quietly as people rushed past them on all sides and the sounds of the dead rose from the other side of the wall.


	5. Chapter 5: Human Life

Walter Four was in a state of depression: leaderless and in utter despair. Thane and Braxton had gone into shock at the loss of their sister, but Daryl hadn't moved from his position since the walkers had stopped trying to break down the barricade. Merle had left him sitting with his eye full of tears that would not fall as he mourned the loss of his wife. Carol and Sophia had taken to watching the triplets while Rick and T-Dog temporarily took charge of the situation. Merle was on watch on the wall above Daryl, but he kept his gaze on his little brother instead of the field like he was supposed to. Andrea had tried to coax a response out of him, but either he somehow couldn't hear her or was completely ignoring her because he remained sitting and silent as ever, seeming to be carved out of stone rather than flesh.

When the rain began to pour down in the early evening Merle cursed Georgian weather and took leave of his watch. Andrea was waiting with an umbrella at the bottom of the stairs and she threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. Merle knew that he should put his arms around her, hold her, and whisper a husband's words of comfort, but something held him back. He had to know whether or not she blamed him for what happened to Myah.

"Where's Rhys?" he asked quietly.

Without looking at him and still snuggled in close, Andrea replied, "Rick and Thane put him in a storage closet and Kale's standing guard."

"How'd he git t'you?"

"It was my watch, but I'd forgotten since I was in the bathroom. When I got to the top he was already there and it—it just happened. I screamed and then you were there."

"Iss my fault. I threw m'self at 'im and we both hit the wall. I couldda stopped it-,"

Andrea pulled back slightly to stare him down, her watery eyes fierce. "Don't you do that. That bastard had the explosives on a timer and there was no way you could have prevented it because none of us knew about it. The fact that you were fighting him on the wall that had the explosion had nothing to do with it."

"Naw, iss got ev'rything t'do with it, Andrea, that's my point. I was fightin' 'im on that damn wall and y'all rushed in t'help me, or stop me, or whatever the hell y'were doin'. What I'm gittin' at is that ev'ryone came to the wall 'cuz I was there with Rhys and that's how Myah got blasted over the side. 'F I hadn't rammed into him, we wouldn'ta hit the wall and no one wouldda been on it when the explosion happened. Myah would still be alive."

"Merle, don't," Andrea begged. "Don't turn this into something worse that it is. If you hadn't done what you did, Rhys would have—he would have done _it_ to me."

"So that's s'posed t'make me feel better, huh?" Merle snapped. "Either you're raped or Myah's dead, is that how this works? S'a shit deal either way."

"It was _not_ your fault, Merle Dixon, so you cut that shit out right now!" Andrea shouted, but then her voice grew soft. "I don't blame you and I can promise you that Daryl doesn't either, otherwise he would have made a go for you by now. Thane and Braxton know better than to accuse you of something that you had no control over. It was an accident, that's all."

"My lil' brother's wife _is dead_, Andrea, and that ain't somethin' y'can juss brush off when you might be the cause of it. Daryl's got three kids who don't have a mom no more 'cuz their uncle brought back a man who'd gone insane. I brought that son've a bitch into Walter Four, I didn't see 'im f'what he was, and I made both've us fall onto the south wall, so don't you try'n tell me t'weren't my fault."

"Go and talk to your brother right now," said Andrea, "and see if he blames you. You'll see…" She pushed Merle away from her and he slogged miserably towards Daryl who still had not moved. He nudged Daryl's leg with his boot and began awkwardly, "Hey, are you alright?"

_Tactless_. _'Course he ain't alright, y'idiot. What a stupid question…_

There was a sour taste in his throat when he spoke the words, "'M'sorry, man."

Daryl blinked very slowly and it seemed to take ages for him to turn his head. His eye was strangely blank when he looked up at his older brother. "What did you say?" he asked.

"Y'heard me; I ain't sayin' it agin."

"Naw, you are. You're gonna say it again right to my face." Daryl stood up, wobbling at first and nearly face planting on the hard concrete ground before Merle reached out his only hand to catch him. The two held their gaze for an entire four seconds before Daryl blinked and said, "I wanna hear you say it like you really mean it."

"Aw, c'mon, Daryl, y'heard me the first time," Merle complained.

"I heard ya, but did _you_ hear yourself?"

"Yeah, I said I's sorry-," Merle closed his eyes, realizing that Daryl had just caught him. "Daargh, shit."

Daryl's one eye bored into Merle as he stood looking up at his older brother. "I'll take that as sorry for all the wrong y'ever done to me since the day I's born. But I ain't blamin' you for nothin' today. There ain't nothin' to forgive. Weren't your fault, y'hear me? Myah—the walkers—none of it's your fault. Look me straight in the face and tell me that you don't blame y'self."

Merle thought it would come easy, saying that as long as Daryl didn't blame him, he could admit that he was not at fault, but the words never made it out of his mouth. For the first time in living memory he had to break eye contact and look away as Daryl's own overpowered him. He glanced down and swallowed hard. Daryl punched his arm none too harshly.

"Hey, I mean it, bro, I don't want you thinkin' that it's your fault. You was protectin' Andrea against that bastard who set the explosives. I wouldda done the same. There ain't nothin' to forgive, y'unnerstand?"

"Yeah, whatever," said Merle tonelessly.

"I ain't convinced."

"Don't matter to me. I ain't gotta convince no one."

"Well, if you ain't gonna convince me, then you gotta back me up. I thought long'n hard 'bout it and I want the right to hold that son've a bitch's life in my hands. I want the decision to choose whether he lives or dies and if anyone tries to stop me, I want you to have my back."

"You got it."

Daryl took off towards the inner building, shoulders squared and head raised. It was as if he was just going off to take out his temper on something in typical Daryl Dixon fashion rather than on his way to possibly kill another human being and a sick minded one at that. Merle checked the rounds in his pistol as they went, just in case he might have need of them. Knowing Daryl, he would definitely have need of them but for once, it wasn't exactly an encouraging thought. Daryl stopped to ask one of the inner wall guards where Rhys was being held before he sprinted up the stairs towards the second floor storage closet. Kale was standing guard outside, but when he saw Daryl coming at him he backed into the door and cocked his weapon.

"Now, Daryl, you need to calm down before someone gets hurt! Stop right there, man!"

"Get out of my fuckin' way!" Daryl screamed, pointing his crossbow directly at Kale. "I ain't shittin' you, boy, get out've the way or I will shoot you! Do it _now_! NOW DAMN IT!"

His tone even scared Merle who had never heard such anger in his little brother's voice before. It was terrifying, watching Daryl threaten an innocent bystander and he decided that he had better interfere before Daryl went too far. He put his hand on Daryl's shoulder and nodded to him in a half-encouraging sort of way.

"Kale, git outta the way, son, or this's gonna end bad. Y'need to step outta the way or I'll have to drag ya. I ain't gonna be the one to stop Daryl from doin' what he deserves to do to that bastard you're guardin'. Rhys wouldda seen you killed and not thought twice 'bout it, so juss do the smart thing and clear off."

"I have my orders to stand guard-,"

"_Orders?_" Merle bellowed. "Who the hell gave you orders? You're a human being, ain'tcha? Y'got the right to do whatcha want, ain't that right? Iss the damn apocalypse, son, and y'can't be takin' no orders if y'wanna survive! I tell ya, you'd better git the hell away from that door b'fore Daryl puts an arrow where your brain should be, now move it!"

Tentatively, slowly, Kale stepped out of the way and Daryl rushed forward, yanking the door wide open as Merle guarded him from behind with his pistol drawn. Rhys was curled on the floor rocking back and forth when Daryl seized him by his hair, dragged him out into the sunlit corridor and threw him to the ground, smashing his face into it at least four times before he flipped him over onto his back and pressed the tip of his arrow into Rhys's forehead.

"You're gonna pay for what you done, you evil, sick-minded piece of shit!"

"I didn't do anything!" Rhys insisted.

"You tried to rape my brother's wife, you set explosives along the wall, and y'caused the death've _my_ wife, don't you lie to me! My kids ain't got no mother now! You killed her and I'm gonna hear you scream for mercy 'fore I'm finished with you! Scream for your life, you bastard!"

"You get the hell off've me, I didn't do anything!"

Daryl punched him in the nose, eye popping and vein throbbing in his forehead. Sweat dripped off the end of his nose and his lip was quivering. Merle hurtled back through time to a very similar situation.

_He rammed the butt of his rifle into T-Dog's face, feeling racist and uncalled for anger boiling in his blood. Someone tried to stop him and he delivered a quick punch without even realizing to whom he dealt out the punishment. T-Dog went down hard from a powerful kick and Merle pounded his fist into the former's face as Morales tried to break the fight up, but Merle elbowed him in the gut and he backed off. Drawing his Browning Hi-Power, he pointed it threateningly at T-Dog's face, daring the others, including Andrea, to try and interfere. He was in complete control of the situation and had them all at his mercy, to do with as he willed. _

Walker lives—or lack thereof—were easy to take, but taking that of a human was enough to earn him a one way ticket into the deepest circle of hell.

Hell.

The one place he would not let Daryl go, alone or with him. If his younger brother pulled the trigger on his crossbow, he would be damned for eternity. He was still innocent in so many ways that Merle was not. He had not yet been corrupted and Merle intended to keep it that way. He strode forward and surprised even himself as he put his hand over the crossbow and lowered it ever so slightly.

"That's 'nough, Daryl. His life ain't worth yours to take s'long as he's human. Walk away from it now while y'still can."

"I thought you had my back on this," said Daryl, not looking at him.

"I do; I've got your back against y'self. You're your own worst enemy, lil' brother. Gimme the crossbow and walk out or you're gonna regret it. Holdin' a human life in your hands and wantin' to kill juss 'cuz y'can ain't gonna earn you a place in heaven, boy. Only reason I think I'm still here and not in hell is 'cuz I stopped m'self from pullin' the trigger on our old man when he was passed out cold from bein' drunk. I had his pistol in my hands and the nozzle was touchin' his head, but I pulled out and right now I'm givin' you that option."

"She's dead, Merle," said Daryl, struggling to hold back the emotion in his throat. "I need to have justice for that. I gotta have _some_ consolation for her. I gotta be able to tell my kids that their daddy got revenge on the cowardly shit who killed their momma."

"He'll git what's comin' to 'im, but not like this, not by you, Daryl. Now, I ain't gonna tell ya, but I'm gonna _ask_ ya to let this one go for your own sake. I know y'said you had a while to think this through, but I'm pretty damn sure that y'only thought 'bout how you was gonna kill 'im and not whether or not y'should."

"I don't need to think, Merle so mind y'own damn business!"

"_You_ are my business, boy. I'm tryin' t'look out f'you, 'f you'd only let me. C'mon, I'll help you up. Let's go."

Merle held out his hand to Daryl who looked long and hard at Rhys with his one penetrating eye before taking Merle's fingers and standing up. He unloaded his crossbow, strung it back over his shoulder, and walked away. Rhys remained petrified in place where Daryl had left him and Merle kicked him hard in the groin for good measure.

"I done saved your pathetic excuse for a life, motherfucker, now you'd best start prayin' 'cuz what he had in mind for you don't even begin to compare with what I'mma do to you if I git a majority vote on your execution. Think long'n hard 'bout that and then go shit y'self."


	6. Chapter 6: Suicidal Prevention

Kale was an expert at deception, for he somehow managed to convince Thane and Braxton that Rhys's facial wounds were self-inflicted. Merle ensured that Daryl stayed clear of the second floor corridor for the remainder of the day and when it came time for lights out, he took the liberty of locking Daryl, Rick, and Carl in their shared room with the triplets as an added precaution. Daryl would have to make his way through Merle and Andrea's half of the neighboring room to get out the door and on top of that he would have to break the door down if he wanted to have another go at Rhys while Merle wasn't watching. He curled up on his queen sized bed with Jared in a tight bundle in front of him, Alana draped over his back and Emerson snuggled under one arm. His breathing was regular, but troubled when Merle checked in on him in the middle of the night, shining a flashlight on the bed. Daryl's leg twitched and his hand tightened into a fist momentarily with a furrowed brow before he relaxed and drifted back into uneasy sleep. Merle stood watch for a time, leaning against the doorframe while listening to the breathing patterns around him. He left his position only once to drape another blanket over Dale in his twin sized mattress on the floor.

When he heard Daryl gasp out loud, he rushed back to the door and shined the light on his face. His brother was sitting up in bed, staring out the window into the darkness with sweat on his forehead. His left hand caressed Emerson's head and he touched his other two children as if reassuring himself that they were there beside him and real. When he became aware of Merle resting the flashlight on him, he squinted directly into it and then held up his arm to shield his eye.

"You okay?" Merle asked.

"M—Myah," said Daryl groggily. "She's—she's dead, isn't she?"

"Yeah," said Merle slowly.

"Walkers?" asked Daryl, rubbing at his forehead with his thumb.

"That's right."

"I'm gonna kill 'em. Ain't no one gonna stop me; I'll kill 'em all, you'll see. It's my job."

"Sure it is," Merle agreed, deciding it was best to play along since he wasn't entirely sure that Daryl was awake or in his right mind.

"You'll go with me, right? You're on my side and you're gonna stick with me, ain'tcha?"

"You bet, bro, now lay back down and go to sleep."

Daryl's eye drooped and he flumped back down onto the mattress. Merle shook his head to himself, praying to God that if ever he came close as to losing his sanity again like on the Atlanta rooftop that someone would just put a bullet through his head. It pained him to see Daryl like this, but there was nothing he could do. The loss of a loved one tolled on a person to such an extent that oftentimes they felt as if they had no way out and more likely than not they would resort to suicide as a way of dealing with their pain. Andrea had nearly succeeded in blowing herself to kingdom come after the loss of her sister and then she had almost put a bullet in her mouth when Dale Horvath was killed. Merle prided himself in being the one to save her on the latter occasion, but this was different. Daryl was his brother and Merle couldn't use the same technique he had perfected on Andrea.

If Daryl thought suicide was the only option, Merle would have to lock him in a padded shell for the rest of his life, hidden from his children who would be traumatized by an insane father. What kind of an existence was that? If you couldn't live freely, there was no point to it and Merle couldn't force himself to put Daryl in a cage if he showed signs of suicide, but there were two people he refused to live through the apocalypse without and Daryl was one of them. Merle knew that if his brother or wife didn't make it, _he_ would be the one locked up for suicide prevention.

He couldn't allow Daryl to kill Rhys because it would solve absolutely nothing and his brother would only want more and more bloodshed; there would be no satisfying his thirst for it. Merle couldn't let him think that suicide was the only way out either, so what the hell was he supposed to do? He wasn't everyone's problem solver—hell, he was _no_ one's problem solver—but he had to keep everything on a level where he could control it. Control meant everything, even if he wasn't actually leading.

It was either stalemate or checkmate but for the life of him, Merle could not figure out which one.

What did he owe Daryl, if anything? Would he—if their situations had been reversed and Andrea had been killed instead—would he have wanted Daryl to make decisions for him so that Dale would not grow up an orphan, or would he have wanted Daryl to just leave him the hell alone and let him handle things his own way? He was inclined to think the latter. He would have wanted Daryl to allow him free reign at the walkers and anyone else who he felt was responsible for Andrea's death. Daryl felt the same way, there was no doubting it.

"Merle, what are you doing?" asked Andrea sleepily. He jumped, not having heard her get out of bed and creep across the room to where he stood. She wound her fingers around his wrist and gave a gentle tug. "Come on, come back to bed. You'll need enough rest for whatever happens tomorrow."

As Merle prepared to lock the door again, he turned to her quizzically. "What's happenin' t'morrah?"

"I don't know yet, but knowing Daryl, it won't be something good. You're going to have your hands full, I know it, and I expect you to remember that no matter what happens you'd better keep your brother on a short leash so that he doesn't bamboozle you into attempting an act of bravado."

"How d'you _know_ this crap?" asked Merle, lying down beside her.

"I'm a woman," said Andrea simply. Merle felt her slide closer to him and taking his hand, placed it on her stomach. "Keep baby Dixon number two in mind." He could almost taste the sweetness of her breath in front of his face as she pressed her lips to his briefly and drifted off once again.

"Merle Dixon, you better let me outta here right now, I ain't playin'!"

Sitting up with a splitting headache from lack of sleep, Merle glanced towards the door from where Daryl's voice was coming from.

"Quit your squealin', boy, I'm comin', I'm comin'," said Merle, swinging his legs off of the bed.

"Man, I gotta piss like a mother and I gotta share this room with three kids, an adolescent teenager and another grown man, so if you don't open the damn door in the next three seconds, this place is gonna wreak."

"Don't you dare," said Andrea, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes.

Merle unlocked the door and hurriedly stepped back as Daryl went rushing past him. Poking his head inside, Merle saw that Rick and Carl were just sitting up from their own beds while the triplets attempted to roll off of the queen mattress. Andrea, Carol, and Sophia all took up the job of feeding the children while Merle lay back down to try and relieve himself of his headache. After ten minutes, however, Daryl still hadn't returned and Merle had a suspicion as to where his brother had gone. He climbed the stairs to the fourth floor of the interior building where Thane and Braxton's separate rooms were located. Out in the corridor he heard raised voices: those of Daryl and the Walter brothers. It seemed to be Braxton and Thane on the same side for one argument and Daryl and Thane against Braxton on another.

"You ain't got the right to deny me nothin'," shouted Daryl.

"If I volunteer, I should damn well be able to go if I want to, Brax, but Daryl, you can't be going out there because you haven't lost your position; you still have three children to look after. Myah was our sister and I'm as angry as you are, but I have nothing except Braxton to lose and he's not stepping up to go anywhere. I can do this by myself," said Thane shakily.

"Thane, you can just shut the hell up because with that gimp, you aren't going anywhere fast, especially on foot in a walker-infested area. You'll get yourself killed within five seconds of walking out the door," argued Braxton.

"Then that's what happens," said Thane with conviction.

"You're needed here, you idiot," said Braxton firmly. "I can't let you risk it."

"Well, you don't have any authority over either, so butt out of this," said Daryl.

Merle rapped his knuckles on Braxton's door and invited himself in, shooting Daryl a glare. "I juss knew you was gonna pull some shit like this. You done slipped off when I thought you was takin' a piss and you left the women on breakfast duty, y'slippery bastard. I've got a right mind to kick your ass here and now."

"Back off, Merle, this ain't your call to make," Daryl snapped.

"Hey, you got kids, bro, and you'd better stop bein' so damn selfish and think 'bout 'em. You wanna leave 'em without a dad too?"

"Don't pull that card on me, Merle, it ain't gonna work. Y'won't let me put a hole in Rhys's head and you done locked me in my own room. I know you're tryin' to help me out for my kids' sake, but I don't need you and I don't want your help no more. I'm a grown man, just like y'always wanted me to be since you got landed with me. I ain't your responsibility no more so _leave—me—the—hell—alone_."

"None of you are going anywhere unless I say so," said Braxton, but Merle walked into him and dug his index finger into Braxton's chest.

"No, you listen here, pal, I thought we made a deal that no one's gonna be givin' no orders 'round here anymore. That's how people git killed, or didn't you notice? You can say 'no' all y'want, but people are gonna do what they wanna, rules be damned. I can see that Daryl ain't gonna be backin' down and if he's goin', I'm goin' too. S'much as I hate to say it, we work well t'gether. He's goin' out not juss t'git more water for 'is kids, but to put down as many walkers as he can. He's doin' what he's good at in the best way he knows how and b'lieve it or not, iss what I'm good at too. We're goin' and you can git in the way and earn a black eye or you can sit back and watch. Iss up to you."

Braxton looked from Merle to Daryl to Thane and could see that he was defeated, but his eyes lingered on Thane the longest. "I'm asking you one last time to rethink this, Thane, please. No matter what you do, it won't bring her back."

"Screw you," Thane snarled, stalking out the doorway. They watched him go and as soon as his gimpy leg was out of sight, Andrea appeared, arms folded in such a way that told Merle that either he was in deep trouble or she was about to burst into tears.

"I said something to you earlier about bravado, didn't I, Merle Dixon?" she said in a very dangerous tone.

"Maybe," said Merle cautiously.

"Well, you pretty much shit on that, didn't you?"

"Things've changed since then, baby."

"Damn right they have, so if you both are going out there, I'm coming with you."

"No you ain't, are you crazy?"

"We've proven that and it's because I'm married to you. Dale will be safe here and Rick will take care of him if anything happ-,"

"Don't you say it," said Merle, cutting her off. "You're stayin' here 'cuz I ain't havin' Rick Damn Grimes raise my boy."

"He won't," assured Andrea, "because I intend to make sure that you make it back. Since we've got that all worked out, there's no sense in delaying it, so let's go say goodbye."

When she had left, Daryl gave Merle a look as if to say, _She's _your_ woman._

Merle was proud to admit that he could not remember the last time he had cried from emotion, but he had to put on a very strong act in order to avoid putting an end to that as he said goodbye to Dale. The boy couldn't completely understand what was going on, but he understood that his parents were leaving him and he began to throw a fit. Andrea became teary-eyed and had to hurry away after hugging him briefly, but Merle stayed for a moment or two longer, taking time to kiss Dale's head. Dale went silent at his father's touch and peered up at him with the almond-shaped eyes he had inherited from Merle.

"I'll be back, buddy," he whispered just loud enough for his son to hear and then turned away, blinking furiously.


	7. Chapter 7: The Run of a Lifetime

Thane and Andrea were already saddling their horses when Merle joined up with them in the courtyard. The two were tucking bludgeoning weapons, pistols, and knives into their saddle bags, but no shotguns or rifles because they would need their horses to go as fast as possible and adding any unnecessary weight was risky. Merle accepted Andrea's help in preparing his own saddlebags, careful to avoid nicking his horse in the rear end with his knife. In an undertone, he shared his thoughts with Andrea.

"Y'know what I miss most 'bout the civilized world? My right hand…and also not havin' t'see Daryl's ugly mug every day."

"You were worse off before the apocalypse," Andrea pointed out. "Admit it; you're happier now than you ever were before you showed up on your motorcycle in our camp."

"Yeah, I'm much better off now, lettin' my baby brother git 'is ass killed by walkers and prob'ly dyin' m'self in the process."

"Keep talking like that and I'll tear off half of that duct tape from your stump and plaster it over your mouth," said Andrea. "Think positively and clearly." She put her hand on Merle's shoulder as he helped her up onto her horse. "I'll tell you something, Merle, not a day goes by where I don't miss Amy and Dale and everyone I knew before the walkers took over, but I'm definitely happier now with you and our son than I ever was." She leaned over and kissed him above the eyebrow.

"You watch y'self out there," Merle cautioned with a glance at her belly. Smiling warmly at him, Andrea settled herself into her saddle but suddenly her expression turned sour as she saw someone approaching from the left. Merle followed her gaze and saw Lincoln walking towards them with a rifle slung over his back. He pulled a saddle from the rack and began to saddle a horse of his own, but Thane trotted his horse over to Lincoln and questioned him.

"And just what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going out to help," said Lincoln shortly, "and you aren't going to stop me either because from what I heard, no one has any authority over anyone else here. The way I see it, the more horses you have out there, the more walkers will follow the riders and get the hell away from the fortress. There's three of you and I make an even four."

"There's five've us, asshole," said Daryl, swinging himself up onto his horse and looking nothing short of terrified. His knuckles were white and his face was green, a bad combination for someone about to make the run of his life.

"I'm one of the best shooters in this place," said Lincoln, mounting. "You'll be glad that you have me once we're out there."

"I'm thinkin' this is prob'ly the worst idea you've ever had in the long, sad history've your bad ideas," said Merle, regarding Lincoln with distaste.

"Just you wait, Dixon, you'll be thanking me on bent knee by the time we're done."

"Then you'd better keep a lid on it or I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your ass," said Andrea coldly.

"Hey, lady, I'd be a little nicer if I were you," said Lincoln, scowling at her. "After all, I'm looking like the good guy here compared to that maniac in the storage closet."

"The apocalypse changes people and not always in a positive way," said Thane knowledgeably. "Braxton and I interrogated Rhys about the contents of his little brown paper bag. It turns out that all those body parts are from his family. He shot each of them in the head when they were bitten and then he—and these are his words, not mine—'cut off whichever body part reminded me the most of whomever I took it from'."

Andrea gaped. "That's sick."

"It's messed up," Daryl agreed.

"'Messed' ain't the word I's gonna use," said Merle.

"That's not even the half of it," said Thane with an unhealthy tinge to his face. "He told me that he's done things to try and preserve the body parts and that he used the bag as a pillow."

Merle felt faintly sick to his stomach.

"And he said that he just cracked; he wanted to be a man again, whatever that meant to him, so that's why he went for you, Andrea, but he says that he didn't set the explosives."

"My ass he didn't," Daryl growled.

"That's what I said," said Thane.

Twirling his wrist around his horse's reigns, Merle nudged Daryl with his boot. "Do me a favor," he said seriously, "if I don't make it through this, don't cut off nothin' to r'member me by, alright?"

"I don't wanna remember you," said Daryl and Merle knew that he was far too upset to be taken seriously so he let his younger brother be and urged his horse towards the vault door. Andrea was behind him and Thane in front. On the wall above them Braxton and Kale were standing guard with a handful of other sharpshooters who were preparing to clear the way in front of the door for the riders to go out. The way in which Braxton and Kale were looking at Merle was not encouraging by any means and he felt a knot twist in his stomach. He turned around in his saddle and met Andrea's eyes.

"Stick close t'me, baby."

"Draw them as far away as you can and use whatever is at your disposal to take them out," Braxton instructed. "Only resort to artillery if it's absolutely necessary. After you ride out we'll try to create an escape route for you and help you any way we can. Good luck out there, people."

Merle's horse gave a nervous snort as if it knew what was about to happen to it and Merle patted its head reassuringly. Rick was standing at the vault and he nodded briefly to Merle before he gave an almighty tug and pulled it open. Thane ducked low over his horse and the beast took off through the doorway just as the first gunshot sounded from above. Merle copied him and rode out after him. There was a walker on his immediate right and he smashed its head in with his bat as he followed Thane out, trampling walkers one at a time. With Andrea on his tail, he made for the tree line where Thane was already waiting and swinging his crowbar. Merle brought his horse around and lined it up beside Thane. Andrea, Daryl, and Lincoln joined them and formed up in a horizontal line. As expected, the walkers were making their way towards the five of them, drawn in by the commotion.

"Follow my lead," said Thane and Merle had no time to figure out whether he meant as a leader or in the form of a tactic as all five of them took off towards the walkers at top speed, crushing walkers in their path. Thane started to turn his horse right and Daryl who was on the far left side swung around to straighten out the line. They cut through a last group of walkers and found themselves at the tree line once again.

"New strategy," said Lincoln as his horse panted. "We'll kill the horses like this. Spread out at intervals, all going back into the trees. If we can get them to that drop off then we might be able to pull this off. I'll start and draw their attention and when they're close enough to me, I'll ride back a few dozen meters where Thane will be waiting and making a ruckus. The walkers will go for you next and when they get in close to you, ride back another dozen meters to the next person. Ride all the way to the end of the line and we'll create a bread crumb line for them to follow to the drop off where they'll be easier to deal with."

"Learned that from readin' books or bein' in the service?" asked Daryl.

"Where do you think I learned to shoot?" Lincoln snapped. "Now go!"

Merle made Andrea go first before he took off after her into the woods. There were stray walkers here and there, but they were easily dealt with and as Daryl positioned himself as Thane's backup, Merle measured out roughly a dozen meters and let his horse rest. Andrea rode past him to take up the last position in line before Lincoln started it all over again. He only had to wait around forty seconds and then he saw Lincoln galloping past to restart the line. He saw Thane holding his ground against the walkers and heard gunshots in the distance. When the walkers were almost on top of him, Thane fled, shouting to draw their attention to Daryl who was next in line and anxiously holding his crowbar.

"Steady, boy!" Merle called as the walkers loomed in closer to his brother. "Keep y'head now, and don't screw it up or go all Clint Eastwood on me."

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl barked as his horse whinnied in fear. "And for the last time, Clint didn't have no crossbow!" One walker reached him early and he made a hole in its nervous system.

"Pull out now," said Merle under his breath, praying that Daryl had his wits about him. "C'mon, c'mon, kid, git outta there."

Daryl seemed to have frozen up as the walkers closed in around him.

"Daryl, move your ass _now_!"

Merle breathed a sigh of relief as Daryl pulled away, leading the walkers straight at Merle who anxiously kept a tight grip on his bat, longing to switch it out for his pistol. When he decided that the walkers were close enough, he retreated, calling out to Andrea, "They're all yours, baby!"

They managed to keep this process up for about a half hour and by then Merle judged the distance to the drop off to be another three dozen meters, leaving himself, Andrea, and Lincoln to finish off the strategy. He passed Andrea and waited on the edge of the drop off with Daryl and Thane, preparing to do whatever he had to in order to push the walkers into the hole. Andrea joined them shortly and Lincoln kept up the racket to draw the walkers' attention. The first round was only about seven strong and they had no trouble sending the corpses down into their makeshift graves, but as they began to tire, the waves grew bigger.

"We can't keep this up forever," said Thane as sweat dripped off the bridge of his nose.

"We don't have to, just long enough," said Andrea as she rammed a walker with her horse.

"Let's go 'round the backside and try to run over a few more," Daryl suggested. "The horses ain't spent yet."

"I'll go," Merle volunteered. "Andrea, come with me." In the process of clearing a way around the walkers, Merle sensed a change in his horse and it panicked, sending him in a front flip over its head. He hit his back hard enough to send a very unpleasant sensation up his spine. A walker overtook him and clamped its teeth down on his knife. Merle had no weapon in his left hand and his right was trapped. He tried to push the walker off of him, but his muscles were exhausted from swinging his bat. Two more walkers bore down on him but Lincoln sacrificed two of his bullets to put them down and jumped from his horse, kicking the walker off of Merle and thwacking it with his weapon.

Merle came to his knees, breathing heavily and Lincoln rounded on him. "See, I'm not heartless, Dixon."

"Naw, you're juss an asshole."

"Merle, get back on and help me!" cried Andrea who had taken off without him before his horse threw him, though unaware of the fact. Merle remounted, cursing his horse when he saw a walker sustain a hold on Andrea's ankle as another grabbed the same leg. Andrea's horse reared up and she fell from it as it took off through the trees. Foregoing the use of his reclaimed bat, Merle stuck it in his saddlebag and went for his pistol, shooting at the walkers with some of the fastest gun work he had ever done. Andrea stood up shakily and held out her arm as Merle bent sideways to swipe her up. He caught her forearm in his strong grip and pulled her up behind him. She locked her fingers together around his waist, holding on tightly.

"I hate horses," she said darkly.

"Juss hold on tight," Merle advised, driving his horse back towards the walkers, squashing several in his path as others scrabbled for him and Andrea.

"How many do you think we took out?" asked Thane.

"No way of telling," Lincoln responded, "but we're not going to be much more use with how tired we are. I say we head back now and send out another group or else take time to recuperate before-,"

The five of them heard the unmistakable sound of something exploding in the general direction of Walter Four and although they knew very well what had happened, entertaining the notion was unthinkable. There was no way in hell that their luck could be that bad, that something like that could have happened _twice_. Rhys was locked up so could have set off the explosives this time? Who-?

Merle's heart froze over in ice. "Hal," he said in horror. "No one was watchin' 'im or payin' 'im any mind this whole time. We juss—no, _I_ juss brought 'im in without thinkin'. Aw, shit, I'm goin' t'hell f'sure."

"We have to get back," said Thane who had gone incredibly pasty in the face. "We have to get back _now_!"

"Merle," said Andrea weakly in his ear.

Merle and Daryl exchanged looks of absolute terror, for the same thought had just occurred to both of them; what if this time the explosion caused a hole so big that it couldn't be blocked off? That would mean that the walkers could get inside Walter Four which was where their children were. At the same time the brothers made their horses break into a sprint and Merle felt a tight constriction in his throat as he prayed to God that he wasn't too late.


	8. Chapter 8: It Comes Down to This

Chaos.

Merle's worst fears were confirmed as he saw the hole in Walter Four. The previous hole had been struck again and enlarged so that walkers were able to pour in to the fortress and despite the riding party's best efforts, close to a hundred and fifty walkers still remained to lay siege on their stronghold. There were gunshots, screams, and shouts from inside. Urging the horses on at their top speed, Merle, Daryl, Thane, and Lincoln rode for the opening, readying their weapons. Merle saw a fire in Daryl's eyes that had been absent ever since they had lost Myah, brought back by the fear of also losing his children. He could only pray that Rick had done his damn job and kept the children out of the courtyard but those hopes were squashed when he saw Rick, T-Dog, and Kale trying to keep the walkers off of the walls. Thane and Lincoln dismounted and leapt into battle, but Merle was not intent on fighting the walkers; he wanted to know where the hell Hal Burns was, but a distraction in the form of an obese walker made him temporarily forget about his manhunt. The walker tried to take a bite out of Merle's boot and in the process of attempting to shake it off, Merle fell off the other side of his horse. Andrea, who was still astride dispatched the walker and yelled at him to get up.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he pushed himself up with his knuckles and slid his bat out of the saddle bag. "You stay on that horse!" he told Andrea as he and Daryl took off further into the courtyard to assist in any way they could. His fury and desperation sufficed for power and fueled his muscles as he took out walkers left, right, and center. His first real shock came when he saw Rhys (someone must have let him out or else when the guard had abandoned his post to go help, he broke down the storage closet door) behead two walkers with an axe, cleave a third's skull down the middle before six more swamped him and he went down under ravaging jaws.

Merle and Daryl had pushed their way towards the inner building, but they found that the door had been sealed from the inside which told them that it was secure against the walkers. However, they still didn't know if the children were inside or not and instantly sought to get to higher ground so that they had a better scope of the battleground. The riflemen on the walls were succeeding in taking down as many walkers as their rounds allowed, but if the walkers made it up the steps, they would be completely overwhelmed. On the staircase Braxton and Thane were battling side by side by kicking walkers backward every time one made it halfway. Lincoln had fallen back to the wall above and was putting his rifle to good use.

Andrea was in trouble since the walkers had trapped her in one of the corners of the courtyard and she had nowhere to go. It was only her skills with her crowbar that were keeping her alive and unbitten. Merle and Daryl were at least fifty feet from her and they knew they would not be able to get to her in time.

Kale sprinted the length of the wall and dropped to his knees, reaching his arm over the side. "Grab hold, Andrea!" he shouted. Andrea dug her heels into the horse's side and it took off just as she sat up and caught onto Kale's arm. On his own he was able to hold her, but not pull her up. Another guard put his arms around Kale's waist and the two tugged, hauling Andrea upward just as the walkers reached for her. Though it was only temporary, Merle felt a wave of relief which quickly evaporated when he saw that the walkers had beaten Braxton and Thane back to the top of the stairs. Even with Rick and T-Dog as backup, the brothers were rapidly losing ground. Lincoln left his position and began taking a head shot every second, but he lost his footing when one walker clawed at his ankle. He fell from the wall, but landed on top of a walker before he hit the ground, which cushioned his fall. His rifle had been lost in the process, but he still had a pistol and Merle saw the hopeless look in his eyes as four walkers closed in around him. He pulled the pistol from inside his jacket and checked the number of rounds in the clip.

"Git up!" Merle hollered at him. "Lincoln, gitcher ass up now!"

Lincoln closed his teeth around his pistol's nozzle as he stuck it in his mouth and Merle had enough self-control to look away, but he could not block out the sound of the bullet taking out Lincoln's brain. Merle and Daryl reached his body as a walker began to gnaw on his ankle. Daryl pummeled his crowbar into the walker's head and he and Merle proceeded to beat the others away from the body. No matter how much he had been a pain in the ass, Lincoln had been human and an honorable one at that and no fucking walkers were going to feast on his body. Rather than face the horrible, indescribable pain from being eaten alive, Lincoln had opted out. Dragging the body towards the steps, Merle and Daryl handed him off to Rick and T-Dog. There were around thirty walkers left in the courtyard now, but most of the riflemen were out of rounds which meant that everyone had to resort to hand-to-hand combat.

Thane and Braxton led the charge back down the steps to finish off the walkers with Merle close behind. Sick of using his blood-stained bat, Merle switched to his knife but his movements were still noticeably slower and he didn't feel nearly as secure after killing his opponents—again. In the process of unsticking his axe from the last walker's cranium, Thane's head jerked back violently and a fountain of blood spewed out of the back of his skull as the gunshot echo rang out.

"No!" Daryl roared, dropping his crowbar to spread out his arms and catch his brother-in-law. Merle looked about wildly for the source of the bullet and saw him, the bastard Hal Burns with a rifle scope at his eye. In his twisted, unholy mind, that man had decided that human life was as valuable as shit. He pulled back the knob to reload and an empty shell hit the pavement, smoking. Even from this distance, Merle could hear the clicking from within the rifle as Hal set the scope back to his eye and aimed for Merle.

The world around him froze. A tingle in his fingers reminded him of the soft, warm touch of Dale's skin as his son had first entered the world. He smelled Andrea's hair as if he had his nose pressed in deep against her blonde strands. Then he saw Dale Horvath smacking his crowbar into a walker's nose as he thundered, "Go _now! _Merle, for the love of God, get out!" before the walkers overtook him and he went down screaming Andrea's name at the top of his lungs. In a flash of white Merle's mind replayed another scene, this time of Ferris Orwell revealing his bite mark by tearing his shirt open at the collar before this image also faded and he saw Ferris now in walker form flump down as Merle shot him through the head.

In a rush of color and sound reality set back in and Merle straightened up fully, eyes transfixed as he gazed at the rifle aimed directly at him. It had come to this—_this_? He had survived hell time and again, been to the deepest circle of it, to be killed, not by walkers like he feared in his every waking moment, but by another man?

_That's some messed up shit_.

Someone fired at Hal and out of nowhere he saw Daryl rise up and throw himself in front of his brother, facing him as he pushed Merle aside. The bullet sounded and Daryl cried out in agony, throwing his hands up as his back arched and he collapsed face-down on the ground.

Merle heard nothing, not the moans of the dead, nor the shouts of the humans around him, or even the sound of Daryl hitting the pavement. He only saw his baby brother lying there at his feet, not moving. Merle's blood ran cold and an iron fist clenched around his heart so that it hurt to breathe, hurt to think, hurt to feel…and he felt everything. God could not be so cruel as to take his brother away from him now just when Merle finally admitted to himself that Daryl was the one person he would gladly switch places with if it meant saving him. Daryl, his selfless flesh and blood who had thrown himself into the path of the bullet to save his older brother whom he owed absolutely nothing to.

"DARYL!" Merle screamed. He felt something like an anvil hit him hard in the chest and thought for a moment that Hal had shot him, but he realized it was his own heart shattering inside of him. He _did_ have a heart and it was dying right along with his brother.

"NO, YOU FUCKIN' SON'VE A BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU!"

He hadn't made it three steps when he saw Hal aiming again, but he kept running at the piece of shit, refusing to die until he had taken the life of that man. He knew he'd never make it, especially if Hal already had him in his sights, but he would keep going, no matter how many bullets went through him. If there was one thing he could give Daryl, it would be this.

Hal's finger was on the trigger and Merle was still ten feet away…

A shower of red exploded out of the left side of Hal's head and he toppled sideways, rifle falling from his grasp. He hit the ground hard and did not get back up as his eyes stared without seeing ahead and Merle came to a skidding halt over him. Measuring the angle of the shot, Merle glanced up at the inner building and saw Carl leaning out of the fourth floor window with his own rifle in position. Picking up Hal's weapon, Merle fired off the round meant for him straight into Hal's right temple, reloaded, and fired again…and again…and again…until the rifle was empty. Merle stabbed his knife into Hal's shoulder, his chest, his neck, anywhere he could reach, swearing, shouting, and sobbing.

He never believed himself capable of shedding tears for anyone he loved, nor did he believe himself capable of loving, but the droplets fell free from his eyes and blood sprayed up into his face and onto his clothes as he reduced Hal's body to something completely unrecognizable. When soft, cold hands seized his right arm, he let it drop and threw himself forward so that he was hunched over his knees, nearly kissing the ground. Andrea took his head and put it to her chest, running her fingers over the back of his neck to calm him. How long he stayed like this, he didn't know, but after what seemed like hours (even though it was probably only a minute at most) he came to his feet and staggered back towards Daryl, dropping to his knees once again at his brother's side. As gently as he could, he slid his knife underneath the space between Daryl's neck and the ground and with his hand he turned Daryl over so that his upper body was resting on the top of Merle's thighs. This face had changed so much since childhood, but despite these changes, Merle could still see a boy hidden amidst the maturity. Daryl's one eye was closed peacefully and at the sight Merle felt a solitary tear plummet from his own eye straight down onto Daryl's cheek. He put his hand on Daryl's heart and lowered his forehead to his brother's.

What he wouldn't give to have switched places…

"Merle…"

It must have been a trick of the mind, for Merle was beyond humanely exhausted and knew that the mind jested with its owner when there was no energy left to be had. He sat up and put his knuckles against Daryl's forehead. It was warm.

The one soft blue eye opened and Daryl looked straight up into Merle's face. "Did we win?" he asked hoarsely.

If he had had the strength Merle would have punched Daryl right in the nose but instead he had to compensate by back-hand slapping him. "You stupid lil' piece've shit, what were you thinkin'? Why the hell'd you git in the way've that bullet?"

"You wasn't movin'," said Daryl weakly. "Had to do somethin', didn't I?" He put his hand on his thigh and for some reason pinched it. No change came over his face for a moment, but then he closed his eye gently and whispered, "I can't feel m'legs, bro."

Merle carefully turned him to the side and examined the entrance wound, right where the tailbone met the spine. Hal's shot had paralyzed him from the waist down. But Daryl did not seem that disturbed by it and so Merle figured he shouldn't be either. He helped Rick and Kale lift Daryl tenderly onto a stretcher and would have continued to carry him to the medical quarters if his own legs hadn't given out at that moment and he had to sit down as his head spun wildly. Watching the men carry his brother away, he said a quick and silent prayer of thanks.

_Dumb son've a bitch, you knew that was gonna happen, didn't cha? That's why you did it, ain't that right? Somehow, y'knew. Shit, I love you, kid._


	9. Chapter 9: Live it Up

Merle had fallen asleep against the wall in the courtyard while the other inhabitants piled up twice-dead corpses to be burnt, separated the human victims (after putting a hole in their brains, of course) and sealed back up the fallen section of the wall with mortar. He had offered to help out, but Rick had strictly denied him all rights to action and so he had sat down, falling asleep within minutes. When he awoke it was nighttime and the fortress smelt of ash to clear out the foul scent of the dead and his muscles were sore to the point of seizing up. It was almost agony to stand up and assess the damage in his head. What had happened?

Walkers had come…people were dead...Daryl…_Daryl!_

Forgetting that his brother was absolutely fine, Merle stumbled towards the inner building, calling Daryl's name out loud, though his voice was cracked from overuse. He was amazed that he was able to find the medical quarters in his condition, but the need to see his brother and reassure himself that he was alive overpowered any sense of reason. The door to the medic wing was ajar and he pushed it open with his bloody hand, pausing to try and remember whose blood it was. On his right-hand side he saw a bed sheet covering a figure and he felt an urge to see the face that he knew lay underneath. His fingers scrunched a handful of the sheet and he pulled it back to reveal the already sunken-in face of Thane. A guilty twinge jostled Merle's stomach as he realized that he had not yet felt any remorse for the man who lay dead in front of him. Thane's death had come so abruptly and then Hal had shot Daryl just as quickly that all else had been driven from Merle's mind and he was only now remembering the numb shock he had felt as he saw half of Thane's brain splatter over the ground. It all happened so fast…

Merle saw that no one had done the courtesy of closing Thane's hazel eyes and so he did it himself, gently pulling the eyelids down with his fingers. He felt disgusted that he couldn't do more for the man who had first vouched for him when he sought shelter in Walter Four, but now that he was dead, what was there left to give him? He had been a leader among men by trying very hard _not_ to lead and in that respect he had been one of the best. Merle supposed that now the time was ripe to offer up his own services as Braxton's right hand man as the only dedication he could give. The eldest and now solitary member of the Walter family was not in the medical quarters, but Merle supposed that was only because he was tending to other duties that would ensure the safety of everyone inside the fortress before he grieved for his brother unlike Merle who really didn't give a shit about what was going on around him until he knew exactly what condition Daryl was in.

His question was answered as he pulled the sheet back up over Thane's face and saw that the bed right next to him was occupied by Daryl who was on his stomach with one arm hanging over the edge of the cot and his knuckles were resting on the cold floor. Sliding in between the two cots, Merle lifted Daryl's blankets to check the bandages around his tailbone and lower back. Apparently someone had made quick work of removing the bullet. Merle draped the blanket back over Daryl's back and lifted his arm off of the floor to rest it at his side. Daryl stirred as Merle let go of his wrist.

"What're you doin'?" he asked feebly.

"Checkin' your bindin's."

"I ain't paralyzed, Merle, I'm gonna walk again, see'f I don't," Daryl vowed, opening his eye to watch Merle by the moonlight drifting in through the open window. "It's just gonna take time is all."

"Not that I'm sayin' that ain't gonna happen, lil brother, but that ain't gonna happen," said Merle skeptically. "I seen the wound and y'said y'self that you couldn't feel anythin' in y'legs, innet right?"

"_Couldn't_ bein' the operative word. That was earlier. But now—just watch this, bro."

To Merle's utter amazement Daryl lifted himself up into what looked like the cobra stretch Merle had seen fitness trainers perform on the workout channel. His little brother scrunched his face up so that he looked like he was stuck between excruciating pain or else having trouble using the restroom. Daryl's right leg jerked and fell from the cot, but he couldn't pull it back up. Collapsing back on the cot with his face in his pillow, Daryl said in a muffled voice, "It's a work-in-progress."

Merle lifted his leg back up onto the cot and knelt down beside it so that he and Daryl were almost at the same eye level once Daryl had turned his face out of the pillow. "I wanna know the truth, Daryl; why'd y'do it, _really_? Y'didn't owe me nothin'."

"Y'remember how y'sent me'n Andrea to ride away from Hershel's house as you was defendin' our escape?" said Daryl quietly. "Remember how y'felt then, full've adrenaline and ready to die? I seen the look on y'face that night and I envied you, hoped that someday I'd have that sorta courage to die—or prepare to—for someone I loved. After Hal shot Thane I had that image stuck in m'head and I heard someone tellin' me to move in front've you. I dunno who said it—maybe I was imagin' things, but I was prepared t'take the bullet. It didn't matter t'me that I was gonna leave my kids fatherless; I was ready. I'd been ready since I saw them walkers git Myah, but I'm still here, ain't I? Shows you y'got one tough son've a bitch for a brother and from now on I expect you t'show me the respect I deserve and not treat me like a kid."

"Like hell that's gonna happen, son. Older brother privileges automati'cly grant me permission to beat on you s'often as I want."

"Yeah, well, you gotta be careful what you do 'round your kids and mine otherwise I'll raise my boys to know that it is their mission in life to kick their uncle's ass. And speakin've kids, is the baby alright?"

For a moment Merle was at a loss for words and very confused, and was on the verge of asking "What baby?" when he remembered with a spaz in his heart—_My baby_. "Aw, shit, _that_ baby! Andrea! _Andrea!_"

He nearly broke his neck on the way down the winding staircase as he fled the medic wing in search of Andrea. How could he have been so stupid as to forget? Andrea had fallen off of her horse and what if she had lost the baby in the process? His heart was pumping madly and he guessed that he looked quite deranged to anyone who was still out in the courtyard at this hour. From the west wall he heard Kale call out to him to shut up, but he told Kale to do something that would have made even Andrea give him a reproachful look, which she did as she appeared from the top of the wall.

"Merle Dixon, if I hear you say that again, I'll force-feed you an entire bar of soap. Your son is up here with me and even if he didn't understand, he sure as hell heard what you just said."

Dale came waddling down to Merle with his arms outstretched and Merle held him tight against his chest. Several times that day he had feared that he'd never get to clutch his son in his arms again. Andrea sighed, her face now inactive and she sat down on the steps above her family. "It's at times like this when I wish I had a camera."

"I'd burn the pictures," Merle promised. "But I came lookin' f'you t'ask 'bout—'bout the baby. Is it alright or did we-?"

"The baby's fine," Andrea assured.

Merle wiped the sweat from his brow and licked the rest off of his lip as he sat down beside her and let her nestle in close to him and Dale ran around the courtyard aimlessly.

"I need a beer," he said in exhaustion.

"Now, Daryl, I know y'only juss got back on y'legs, but 'f you take much longer'n ten more seconds to git your black'n blue ass up here, I'm gonna wait 'til y'git t'the top and then push you right back down the stairs," said Merle in annoyance as he waited for Daryl to climb the steps.

True to his word, Daryl had stated that he could move his legs and he was, in fact, _not_ paralyzed, but he still moved rather slowly, leaning on crutches until he was able to stand on his own. It had taken quite a while for him to get to this stage, but it was beyond anyone's expectation of him. Meanwhile he added several more pounds of muscle to his upper body so that he and Merle were often comparing their physiques.

"I'll get up there when I'm good and ready, old man, so you can just hold the hell on a minute," snapped Daryl as he climbed the last few steps to the top and shot Merle a look that dared him to try and push him back down the stairs. "Y'know, I already felt bad for Dale 'cuz he's turnin' out t'look just like you and act like you, both of which'll get him nowhere in life, but now that your lil' girl's takin' on your looks too, I'm thinkin' that y'should just start makin' her wear a bag over her head b'fore she gets a good look at herself in a mirror."

"Cheap shot. You can poke fun at my boy all y'want, Daryl, but unless you wanna have _no_ legs, I suggest y'shut that trap've yours when y'feel like insultin' m'daughter."

"Y'named her Holly Myah Dixon, Merle," Daryl pointed out. "Holly—Myah—Dixon. What the hell were y'thinkin'?"

"I didn't name her, Andrea did. She named Dale too. I ain't got no say in it, so don't go bitchin' at me," said Merle defensively.

"If she gave Dale Shane or Hershel's middle name, I'm gonna have a laughin' fit, bro, I swear I am," Daryl warned, settling himself in a wheelchair placed atop elevated boards so that he could see over the battlements for his watch.

More out of spite to shut Daryl up about his family than to win the argument, Merle retorted, "Naw, she named 'im after an immediate family member've mine, numbnuts."

Daryl looked puzzled for a moment and then dawning appeared on his face. He blinked and looked away awkwardly. Clearing his throat with some difficulty, he said, "Triple D, huh?"

"Triple D," Merle confirmed. "Now juss shut up 'bout it all and don't go thinkin' y'gotta go have 'nother kid with some woman so that you could name 'im Merle."

"What if it turned out to be a girl?" asked Daryl.

"That don't matter 'cuz it ain't gonna happen no how, so juss keep watch and stop bein' such a pain in my ass." He began to walk off towards the east wall when Daryl called him back.

"Hey, Merle?"

"What?"

There was a painful look on Daryl's features when he began to speak, but it quickly gave way to a shy smile, one that Merle had certainly never seen before. "The apocalypse's a bitch, but it's worth it havin' you 'round, bro…sometimes."

Merle did something he had never done before and reached up like an older brother should do to his younger sibling and ruffled his baby brother's hair...and then he smacked Daryl upside the head none too gently before walking away with a grin on his face.

**We come to an emotional end of a trilogy that seemed to me to take years to write when in fact the whole thing was born inside of a month. Time flies, does it not? I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed my rendition of Merle Dixon and all the other Walking Dead characters, that you have found some form of entertainment in the stories, and that you will revisit the stories whenever you're feeling pissed off, recklessly happy, or just in the need to read about someone with one of the strangest attitudes ever. If you'd like, drop me a line or leave a comment telling me what you found appealing about this story or the other two, which one was your favorite, which Original Character was most interesting, and so on and so forth and such which and such like. **

**It pains me to say this, but now the time has come to let these characters go, or at least, for the time being.**

**Perhaps that has a double meaning, perhaps not, but I have enjoyed writing these stories and I wish you all a very happy walker-free day and also hope that if you find someone who thinks that not even Merle Dixon can change for the good of humanity, for his little brother, or for life itself, you'll tell them to (in the wise words of Merle Dixon himself) to "Rot in HELL!"**


End file.
